


Zinka

by NightBat



Category: Original Work
Genre: Female Friendship, Gen, Poetry, Russia, Russian Literature, Russian poetry, Soldiers, Translation, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:28:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27153173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightBat/pseuds/NightBat
Summary: A translation of poem "Zinka" by Yulia Drunina. It is about the author and her friend at war.





	Zinka

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Зинка](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/704203) by Юлия Друнина. 



> For some reason this poem doesn’t have any 100% accurate or rhythmic translations. I could only find this one, and, while it’s great, it still has some inaccuracies: http://arlindo-correia.com/020604.html  
> (though overall it sounds more poetic than my direct translation haha)
> 
> I really don’t want to disrespect the poetess, so that’s why I made two versions: one where I try to preserve the rhythm (Saving rhymes was much, much harder. I do realize that the majority of rhymes here aren’t strict); and one where everything is translated as directly and close to original as possible (though both may have mistakes related to the fact that English is not my first language). Please read both.

We lay down by a broken fir tree,  
Waiting for the daybreak to start,  
Overcoat made us two much warmer  
On the frozen and rotten ground.

"You know, Yulka, I don't like sadness,  
But today it just doesn't count  
At my home, in the apple backwoods,  
It's my mom that I left behind.

You have friends and your precious lover,  
And I only have her back home.  
Outside there the spring is bubbling,  
House smelling like smoke and dough.

She imagines that every small bush  
Longs for her restless child to come.  
You know, Yulka, I don't like sadness,  
But today it just doesn't count."

Only barely we got warmer  
And command to come forward heard.  
Back again, next to me is soldier,  
With light braids and wet overcoat.

Every day it was getting sadder.  
Went without the noise or flags.  
Near to Orsha there was surrounded  
Our battalion, battered bad.

To attack Zinka led us forward,  
Made the way through the blackened rye,  
Passing craters, ravines and going  
Through the borders of human life.

Didn't wish for postmortem glory,  
Only wanted to live with fame.  
...Tell me then, why are bandages gory  
On a soldier with lighter braids?

I was covering Yulka's body  
With my overcoat, clenching teeth.  
Of Ryazan's outlying gardens  
Belarusian winds did sing.

"You know, Zinka, I don't like sadness,  
But today it just doesn't count.  
Somewhere far, in the apple backwoods,  
It's your mom that you left behind.

I have friends and my precious lover,  
And she only had you back home.  
Outside there the spring is bubbling,  
House smelling like smoke and dough.

Lit a candle next to an icon  
An old woman in flower clothes.  
...I don't know what words I should write her,  
So she wouldn't expect you home?!”

***

And this is the direct translation:

_We lay down by a broken fir tree.  
Waiting for when it will finally start getting light.  
Under the overcoat it’s warmer together  
On the chilled, rotten ground._

_“You know, Yulka, I am against sadness,  
But today it doesn’t count.  
At home, in the apple backwoods  
Lives my mother, my mum._

_You have friends and the one you love,  
I only have her.  
(our) Hut smells like bread dough and smoke,  
And outside the spring is thriving._

_It seems to old woman that every small bush  
Is waiting for her restless daughter…  
You know, Yulka, I am against sadness,  
But today it doesn’t count.”_

_We barely got warmer.  
Suddenly came an order to advance.  
Again next to me in a wet overcoat  
Goes a fair-haired soldier._

_Every day it was getting worse.  
We went without any noise or banners.  
Near Orsha our battered battalion was surrounded._

_Zinka led us into attack.  
We broke through black rye,  
(Running) across bomb craters and gullies  
Through the frontiers of death._

_We didn’t expect posthumous glory -  
We wanted to live with glory.  
...Then why does a fair-haired soldier  
Lie in bloody bandages?_

_I was clenching my teeth as I covered  
Her body with my overcoat.  
Belarusian winds sang  
About Ryazan’s remote gardens._

_“You know, Yulka, I am against sadness,  
But today it doesn’t count.  
Somewhere, in the apple backwoods  
Lives your mother, your mum._

_I have friends and the one I love,  
She only had you.  
(your) Hut smells like bread dough and smoke,  
And outside the spring is thriving._

_And an old woman in a flowery dress  
Lit up a candle in front of an icon.  
...I don’t know how to write her  
So she wouldn’t wait for you?!_

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve tried my best to google all the expressions that I’m not certain in, but there still may be some mistakes. Feel free to correct my grammar if you want to! :)
> 
> I'm not a professional translator, and the original sounds at least two times better, but I just wanted to share this poem.


End file.
